The Modern Lovers - The Modern Lovers

When I was in middle school, my English teacher was a knobbly old Jewish grandfather named Mr. Rose. He had all kinds of stories about driving a yellow taxi in NYC before he went back for his masters’ degree, or teaching at a Catholic school in Belfast during the Troubles, or going to shows at the Paradise or the Orpheum in Boston. Sometime between periods, I can’t remember the exact context, we got to talking about rock music. I was a pretentious little brat, just barely scratching the surface of commercial indie rock. He said that he had heard of Arcade Fire through his son. I lied about having listened to the Velvet Underground. He said "You like the Velvet Underground? Do you like the Modern Lovers?" I said I hadn't heard of them. The next day, I let him borrow Permalight by Rogue Wave and he let me borrow his copy of The Modern Lovers. I think I came out ahead.

Rock & Roll is at it's best when it's a little bit stupid. The Modern Lovers is more than a little bit stupid. The lyrics verge from the pseudo-hip (Astral Plane) to the gleefully banal (Someone To Care About) to the downright insane (Pablo Picasso, the hilariously aged I'm Straight). Jonathan Richman's delivery is unconcerned with rhythmic accuracy or staying in key. It's a vehicle for a more primal meaning than the text alone ever could transmit. The modern world is no place for lovers. It's an absurd, artificial, disconnected, beautiful place. And it has only gotten more so in the 50 years since this album was recorded.

Robinson, Harrison, and Brooks aren't gormless straights being dragged abord by a manic Richman. They're all in on the non-act. They believe just as strongly in these songs as Richman. When they shred a ramshackle organ solo after Richman's declaration of love for the state of Massachusetts and the college girls who live there, they do it sincerely. And that's what this album is, for better and for worse: a painfully sincere record. Worse musicians could take Richman's material and ham it up, but they shore up the songs with their fairly straightforward rockin' and rollin'. It's a tight balancing act between absurdity and earnestness, chaos and danceability.

I bought this recently, I think it was at Found Sound in Ferndale, MI. The mix on this particular disc to bury the rest of the band's contributions more than I remember on the disc I borrowed in middle school. A lot of the vibe of this record can be attributed to its demo-like spontaneity. That's because it literally is a demo; or rather, it's two demo sessions, cut into an LP. Minimal overdubs. One-take vocals. Pure energy. That also means that the flubs and peculiarities of the performances are still there in the final product. While the rough and tumble, slightly eerie nature of the recording contributes to most of the tracks, Richman leans too much into idiosyncrasy in his performance on "Old Word". Also, I don't get the love for "Pablo Picasso". It's more stupid than it is revelatory on an album full of stupid, revelatory songs. Still, this album is an iconic snapshot of the northeast's proto-punk scene and I cherish it.

The Modern Lovers by The Modern Lovers is a good album, and I like it.